We Must Take Care
by Book girl fan
Summary: What should be a fun night out on the town turns into something much more alarming when Daniel goes missing.


**Something short to celebrate the beginning of November, and NaNoWriMo! Not that I'll likely do anything for it, I am terrible at novels, but I'm posting a story anyway. Hopefully I'll be posting more stories this month as well!**

"Where'd our Buffy go?" Merritt drawls, accent thickened by alcohol. They've gone out to the local bar in a town small enough they shouldn't be recognised. It's been two months since the London show, and Dylan has finally let them all out of the house - not that he actually came with them, being too busy scouring the Eye's records for anything to do with his father.

Jack shrugs. "I thought he was getting drinks, but he hasn't come back yet."

They look around, curious, but still unconcerned. If Danny had been recognised there undoubtedly would have been shouting, but there's just the normal hubbub of a busy pub.

"Hey, is that him over there?" Lula points out a man with his arm around someone, someone with the same curly hair as their Daniel.

The man is heading for the exit, and Danny's stumbling along beside him with none of his usual precision.

Suddenly the nickname isn't so funny anymore.

"Maybe it's someone else?" Lula weakly suggests, but they all know it isn't. The height, the hair - even his posture, as uncharacteristically clumsy as it is, somehow just screams Daniel.

They all get up from the table, unobtrusively making their way towards the pair. It's easy for them to go unnoticed in the crowded pub, slipping in between patrons who have had just a bit too much to drink. On a normal night, Jack and Lula might even make a game of it, see who ends the night with more miscellaneous items from other people's pockets. Tonight is not a normal night.

The man is almost at the door now, practically dragging Daniel along beside him. Merritt comes up in front of him, wearing the casual smile that tells all and sundry he's harmless, nothing to see here. "Hey, man, I think should let go of my friend there," he says.

The man's arm tightens around Daniel's shoulders. "He had a bit too much, I'm just taking him outside for some fresh air."

Daniel chooses that moment to lift his head, blurred voice asking, "Merritt?"

The man looks down, unbalanced.

Merritt takes advantage of the opportunity. It only takes seconds for the man to be head slumped, eyes glazed, listening to every word Merritt says. Jack and Lula have grabbed Daniel, keeping him from falling over when the man's grip on him released. He's currently slung between them, his arms over their shoulders, and far too out of it for any of their comfort.

Merritt snaps his fingers, and the man walks straight out the pub door, heading to the police station to confess to buying drugs, harassing pub patrons, and anything else that might stick. Merritt turns back towards Jack and Lula, who are starting to look anxious.

"He's really out of it," Jack says, eyes darting towards Daniel and back.

"I don't think he even knows where we are," Lula adds. She looks, if possible, even more nervous than Jack. She didn't see Daniel after Henley left, when he threw himself into his work, snapped at everyone, and finally collapsed with overwork and exhaustion. Hopefully this is the closest she'll ever get.

Merritt lifts Daniel's chin, trying to catch his disoriented gaze. "Danny? Daniel." He's not responding, and the other two's anxiety is visibly increasing.

"Let's go outside," Jack suggests. "Some fresh air might help."

Between the three of them, they get Daniel outside and settled against a parking rail. He's still not saying anything, and they're not sure he's even conscious. They stand around him, looking lost.

Dylan may be the leader of their little group, but although they all like him, they barely know him. Daniel's the one who takes charge in the everyday, keeping them safe and hidden, always knowing what to do. He may be hard to get along with sometimes, but he's always there, and always in control. Now, that's suddenly not true, and they're all thrown off balance.

Merritt, as the oldest and presumably most adult of the three, takes charge. "Lula, call Dylan. He can be waiting when we get back. Jack, help me get Danny here into the car." Lula steps away, and the guys drag Daniel's arms around their shoulders, pulling him towards the car. He tries to move with them, proving he's at least somewhat conscious, but he's uncoordinated enough it doesn't actually make them feel better.

Lula slides her phone into her pocket, getting into the front seat. Merritt is in the back with Danny, having given the keys to Jack in the hope having something to do will help him keep calm. It's working - a little bit.

"Dylan knows," Lula reports, voice still shaky. "He said we should get back as soon as we can. He'll be waiting for us."

Jack nods abruptly, and starts driving. None of them speak. Maybe they're listening to Daniel breathe, not daring to think what they'll do if he stops. Maybe they're wondering how a simple night out could have gone so wrong. Maybe they just don't know what to say.

Dylan's waiting for them when they arrive. He helps Merritt lift Daniel out of the car, Jack and Lula hovering around like butterflies. They start walking up to the door, Daniel a limp weight between them, until suddenly he isn't.

Daniel pulls against them, head lifting, eyes scanning over them but not recognising. He pulls himself out of Dylan and Merritt's grip, and they're too surprised to stop him. He looks at them all, gathered around him, talking over each other in their attempts to question him. The he runs.

For a moment, while they are all still too shocked to move, he has the advantage. But his steps are clumsy and uncertain, weaving from side to side, and Daniel only makes it to the end of the driveway before Jack has overcome his surprise and caught up with him. "Hey, man, what happened?" Jack asks, catching Daniel by the arm. Daniel doesn't pull away. "Danny?"

Daniel looks at him, brow furrowed with confusion edging into panic. "Jack?"

Jack nods encouragingly. "Yeah, it's me."

"I don't- We're not-" His eyes cross, and then he falls, collapsing to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. It's only thanks to Jack's quick reflexes that he doesn't fall completely, and instead hangs there limply. Jack staggers, unprepared to take his weight, until Dylan reaches them and hauls Daniel into his arms with surprising strength. "I'll take him inside," he tells Jack. "Now, can one of you explain to me what just happened?"

"Someone drugged his drink at the bar. We don't know with what." Lula, somehow having run faster than Merritt despite her heels, is the one to explain. Dylan's presence has calmed her down, and she no longer looks as panicked as before.

Dylan nods, striding up the drive, still carrying Daniel. "Someone we know?"

Jack shakes his head, all three of them trailing after Dylan like ducklings. "Nah, no one familiar. Just an old guy. He just..." He tapers off, not quite sure how to phrase it.

Merritt has no such troubles. "Because our Danny here is such a pretty guy! The man just couldn't resist." Jack and Lula glare at him.

"Leave that for later." Dylan's admonishment brings them back to the situation at hand. "Let's just get Daniel inside."

They go into the mansion, and Dylan lays Daniel down on a couch. They all crowd around. He hasn't moved or made a sound since he collapsed - until, suddenly he does. Not much, just twitching slightly, but it's not long before his eyes are blinking open and they all breathe a sigh of relief.

"Where're we?" he asks, blinking up at them.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Dylan asks in return.

"At the bar. Did Merritt try hypto- hynop?" Daniel can't wrap his tongue around the word. He tries to sit up but Dylan gently pushes him back down.

"I appreciate your faith in me-" Merritt held a hand to his heart, "truly, I do - but this was not on me."

"Someone drugged your drink, man," Jack tells him. "He's right, this wasn't him."

Daniel's brow furrows. "Don't remember..." Without warning, he leans over the side of the bed, vomiting onto Dylan's shoes.

Dylan grimaces at the sticky wetness slowly seeping into his shoes, but still helps Daniel settle back onto the couch. "Go to sleep, Danny," he commands, soft but firm. "We'll handle this."

And the protective fury in his voice must be enough to cut through even Danny's drug-induced confusion, because he does.

As soon as his eyes flicker shut and his head lolls back against the lounge, Dylan is turning to the others, restrained fury making his eyes bright. No one hurts one of his own. "Tell me everything. Now."

They quickly sketch out everything that had happened at the bar. Dylan listens to it all, not speaking a word, but still with that same shining rage in his eyes. They can all see it, and they all feel it too.

Daniel is theirs. Theirs to protect, theirs to annoy, theirs to complain about when he makes them go over the plan for the hundredth time. _Theirs_.

 **Title comes from a quote by Elizabeth Gilbert: '** ** _We must take care of our families wherever we find them._** **'**


End file.
